


Legend of Zelda: Age of Rust

by aenor_llelo, Jaybird314



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Actual Legend Of Zelda Knowledge Probably Not Required To Read, Adoption, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Contains Illustrations, Found Family, Gen, Good Ganondorf (Legend of Zelda), Hyrule Mythology, Identity, Just A Bit Eldritch Nonsense, Like WAY Far In The Future, Link (Legend of Zelda) Uses Sign Language, Names, Past Lives, Post-Breath of the Wild, Reincarnation, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Sheikah Link (Legend of Zelda), Teaching, The Preservation And Freedom Of Knowledge Ended Up Being A Far More Prominent Element Than Intended, The Triforce, There's Not Really Any Shipping, Zelda Cheats At Gambling Haha, they are children - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28575261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aenor_llelo/pseuds/aenor_llelo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaybird314/pseuds/Jaybird314
Summary: An Evil will always rise.A Princess must always be protected.A Hero will always save the day.The specters of war, disaster, and calamity hang heavy over Hyrule even centuries past the peaceful era instilled by the fateful Hero of the Wild. While knowledge of the past continues to erode and fall into myth, the fearful whispers begin- a Ganon rises, or so it's said. Distant, looming, inevitable. But in this steady creeping dark age, the current age's champions seem... unfitting.A Zelda who sneaks, who gambles, who smiles and lies as easy as breath. A Link that never speaks, is eternally cautious, and seems toopacifistto be the force of nature destined to kill all the enemies in its path.Elsewhere, a Gerudovoegrows up without a name, without a face that he can safely show to the world.Hide, little voe. You must never have a face, you must never have a name. The god-hunters will find you, and they will kill you. But first they must catch you. Run, run.The Triforce must find each other. Evil must be defeated. The eternal story of countless ages.(Who ever said it had to be the same this time?)
Relationships: Ganondorf & Link & Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 98





	1. Princesses Need Not Apply

**Author's Note:**

> As is the standard of work by aenor_llelo, this work is intended to be screen reader friendly as a courtesy to the vision/reading impaired. All images will come with complete image description data, and all chapters containing exotic text will be done sparingly, as well as contain a forewarning.

* * *

_Hundreds of years ago, there lived a Hero._

_He was not the first Hero, nor the last, but the most recent in a long, long line. Heroes have appeared throughout Hyrule’s history, and even before it._

_They were all skilled warriors._

_They were all marked with the Triforce of Courage._

_And they were all Link._

_The most recent Hero was given the title, Hero of the Wild, for he tamed the chaos of the wild and brought order to Hyrule. He was a Knight, and he was truly the embodiment of Courage, slaying his enemies without hesitation._

_The Hero traveled across the lands, killing every monster he lay eyes on, for they are an endless plague against the people of Hyrule. Then, when the time came, he drew his sword, the Sword that Seals the Darkness, and destroyed his final foe- Ganon._

_The Beast’s reign of terror came to a close, and Hyrule has since had peace. But one day, Ganon will arise again, and a Hero will be chosen, marked by the Triforce of Courage._

_And Hyrule will know him as Link._

_Link,_

_LINK_

His teacher closes an ancient, dusty tome, carefully handing it back to the curator at her side. “...are you even paying attention? Link? _Link!_ ”

Link snaps back to the present, blinking rapidly. His teacher just sighs, her head in her hands.

“I don’t know _how_ they expect me to teach you if you won’t even _listen_ ,” she grumbles to herself. “Fine- _fine!_ You’ve been staring at that window all day anyways, go outside and make yourself useful to the knights. I suppose your swordsmanship is far more important than your knowledge of history, after all.”

As Link is shooed out of the room, he wonders why he’s being punished again. He really was paying attention to the story! But he knows there’s nothing he can say to change her mind.

(There’s nothing he can say at all, really.)

* * *

Link doesn’t even make it down the hallway before he sees Zelda.

Well, not _see_ so much as _hear._ She’s hiding in the shadows making bird noises, _again_. To her credit, it’s a clever little disguise- it’s common enough to hear birds out the windows that haven’t been replaced in over a century. 

A good cover, but not enough. Link knows what he’s listening for.

He sighs loudly as he glares at Zelda. She’s gone and wedged herself in a large crack in the wall, one that leads to the servant’s passages, and she’s grinning like a loon. " _Busy,"_ he signs to her, making himself look as disapproving as possible.

Zelda just laughs, still quiet enough to stay hidden. “Did Miss Kallo kick you out again?” she whispers. Link nods. “Well then that just means no-one’s expecting you just now, doesn’t it? Come on, Father’s having a, quote, ‘very important meeting that must not be interrupted’, and we can’t have that, now can we?

_"Please don’t cause a political_ incident, _"_ Link replies wearily.

“...fine. But we can still eavesdrop.”

Link smiles, and follows Zelda into the walls of the castle.

* * *

_Very important meeting_ had ended up meaning- as it tends to- _meeting with quite a bit of drinking_ , at least this time. The Princess can’t even say she’s surprised anymore- she learned long ago that _important_ was really just shorthand for _princesses not allowed_ , and Father often deemed many things too _important_ for her concern. 

How dull. She’d been hoping for a continuation of the talks with the Rito diplomat she’s seen staying in the castle. There’d been talks of extending their mail service into Hyrule officially, or so she’s heard (No matter. She can find the diplomat later, she’s sure.)

“I hate this already,” she mutters past her pilfered egg tart, for once actually trying to eat in a ‘dignified manner’ if only so she doesn’t risk any crumbs falling from the rafters. 

Link just raises an eyebrow at her. _"_ _Your idea."_

“I _know_ it was my idea, but I’m also admitting it was a _boring_ idea.” She tucks back her hair, pointing her face up with some mocking half-remembered grace from her least favorite tutor. “ _A wise ruler must stay aware of her flaws_ , or something.”

Link just hums vaguely in response.

She lightly kicks at his shins. “Don’t you start. I know for a fact that this is _still_ an improvement from whatever nonsense you were put through this morning. What was it this time- another thrilling journey through the titles of past Heroes?”

_"Surely not,"_ he signs. _"_ _We have variety. This time it was all five pages of Hyrule’s history."_

“Including the story of the Hero, of course.”

_"Of course."_

Zelda sticks her tongue out. “At least yours have _titles,_ I have to remember the difference between Zelda the Fifth and Zelda the Fourteenth or whatever.”

_"At least yours_ _had_ _**names,** " _ Link haltingly offers. _"_ _Even if it’s all the same."_

Zelda leans back as much as their precarious perch allows. “They don’t… the Heroes don’t even keep their _names?_ ”

_‘"Zelda’ will always have her born name in some royal archive. In the royal crypts for her family’s memory."_ Link smiles sadly. _"_ _No Hero has a name. No one will ever ask."_

“But- but _Link_ isn’t even a _name_ , it’s just-” 

She doesn’t quite finish the thought. They both know how it ends.

_Link._ It’s certainly infamous, but it is not a name- it is a _word_. A placeholder, a hypothetical, an unknown. It is the word used to call out to strangers, it is the word of those who do not wish to sign their names. 

(It is the word of unmarked graves.)

“We should-” Zelda staggers over her words, hands constantly fiddling with the scarf at her neck, wanting to cover her face, ~~to hide~~. “Let’s go find something less boring to do. I think they’re just talking about _horse racing_ at this point.”

_"Damn,"_ Link signs with sarcastic sobriety, _"_ _here I was hoping they’d finally legalize lynel racing."_

“Father _has_ been complaining about a lack of tourism…”

_"Oh, surely it’s the lack of lynel racing."_ He glances sternly down at her while they descend back the way they came. _"_ _Surely it has nothing to do with the way you rob incoming travelers blind."_

“That’s just ludicrous. Besides,” she protests as she sidles into the walls again, “it’s not _robbery_ , it’s gambling.”

_"There’s a difference?"_

“Of course. Gambling is perfectly legal.”

_"Oh, I see,"_ Link smiles. _"_ _Legal_ _robbery. What are you going to do when someone doesn’t like your cheating?"_

“Well, I _suppose_ ,” Zelda drags out her words with a roll of the eyes, “I’ll just have to rely on _our Hero_ to save the Princess again, won’t I?”

Link’s hands falter for a moment, and he frowns. 

“I’m not asking you to come save my scarf when I cheat, Link. I’m asking you to come cheat _with me._ ” She nods appraisingly in his direction. “You’d probably be good. You’ve got a pretty nasty case of poker face, no one would ever be able to read you.”

His frown shifts to a long-suffering scoff. _"_ _I don’t know what you expect me to do with that kind of money."_

“Oh, I don’t know. Buy more of those ceramic jars you seem to love shattering to pieces.”

_"That was_ _one_ _time."_

“It was _50_ jars. _In a row_.”

_"It was a training exercise."_

“You were _smiling_ that whole time, don’t lie to me-”

* * *


	2. In The Pursuit Of The Science

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old habits, old breaks, old names.

* * *

It wasn’t long before both Link and Zelda had to return to their respective tasks (though still long enough to nick a few more sweets from the kitchens), and the two parted ways with ease, knowing they’d see each other soon. By now they had their little routine down to a science. They knew this castle by heart, every last bit- its passageways and corridors, the routes the guards took, which servants would rat them out and which ones wouldn’t bat an eye. 

Link would always take the job of attending to the royal stables come nightfall. A job that would take hours for anyone else, but barely a chore for him- he’d be left with the rest of the night to spare, and no one expecting him anywhere else. 

Zelda would demurely retreat to her room, _for private study_ of course. And when her handmaids finally, _finally_ left her alone, she’d stuff her bed with pillows, lock her door, then quietly climb out the window, scaling down the castle walls. 

And almost every night, just as the town came alive, they’d don their disguises, slipping through a crack in the massive stone walls and into Castle Town.

Well- _she would_. Link, less so. He’d wandered off to private hunts for longer than he could count, but this would be one of his first times truly sneaking into the city itself.

And that, of course, called for a disguise.

_"Where did you get this!?"_ Link signs incredulously, his eyes wide. The two of them stand in the groundskeeper’s shed, maintained by an aging Rito who was willing to turn a blind eye on their antics. It helped that he was _actually_ blind, which made for an excellent excuse should someone ask if he’d seen anyone on the grounds. (There was, as well, a noted fondness for the soft cheeses of the castle kitchens. A little extra bribe here and there never hurt.)

Zelda just shrugs. “Oh, here and there from the travelling markets.” She pouts at his accusatory squint. “I _bought_ my clothes, obviously. I’ve never committed a crime in my life.” A pause. “That you can prove.”

_"That doesn’t explain the_ _royal guard uniform_ , _y’know."_

“Mm. Yes, that. It’s certainly… _there_. In this shed. I certainly put those there.”

_"And you just said you’re not a criminal."_

“Al _right_ ,” Zelda concedes, “I _may_ have- _may have_ \- nicked a spare uniform from the castle seamstress.” She coughs awkwardly. “I mean, _technically_ , if you think about it, it _is_ all the property of the royal family. So it’s not _stealing_ . Just a… _clandestine redistribution_.”

Link simply hums in response. He almost sounds unimpressed with her Very Sound And Reasonable argument. _How dare he._

“If you’ve got a better plan than this, I’d love to see it,” Zelda replied, crossing her arms. “No-one’s going to just ignore some Sheikah kid in a Champion’s tunic. But a royal guard milling around town, off duty? They won’t even bat an eye.”

_"I live to serve,"_ Link drily motions.

For a moment Zelda wants to stomp her foot in frustration, but… “Are you really that uncomfortable with this?” she asks quietly, doing everything she can not to sound angry with him. He doesn’t need someone else pushing him like this.

_"Should be fine."_ He shrugs. _"_ _Might be fun. I can just go if I don’t like it, since people won’t think it’s weird for a guard to leave all of a sudden. It makes sense."_

Zelda sighs with relief. “Okay. Okay.” She smiles. “We can do this.” Link gives her an encouraging thumbs-up. “We can use that big blanket thingy over there as a divider, yeah? The uniform’s got a bunch of bits and baubles on it, but the tunic underneath’s pretty simple, so I can help with the rest once you’ve got that on.”

_"I’m assuming you’ll not be going out in your nightgown."_

“Obviously. Could you imagine the scandal?” she scoffs. “No, I’ve got something _far_ more interesting than that.”

Link rolls his eyes with an amused smile, taking the black underclothing and red tunic that were folded up alongside the ‘bits and baubles’ of the uniform. Out of the corner of her eye, Zelda can see his back as he preemptively removes his own tunic.

There are no scars there, of course. Such a thing could never be allowed. The royal apothecary would never stand for it, sparing the best of the royal stock on hand for the Hero. ~~They could put him through whatever ‘training’ they liked and it would never show.~~

Zelda tries to shove the thought from her mind as she wraps her scarf around her face and puts on the ‘mask’ that had become so familiar to her.

It didn’t take long for Link to put on the tunic and such, so Zelda opts to wait on her own accessories until after she’s helped Link. The uniform included a sort of decorative overcoat- strips of navy blue lined with gold-colored thread- as well as long gloves and even longer boots. Oh, and a hat, of course. You can’t have a uniform without a fancy hat.

_"It feels weird having something covering my hand,"_ muses Link, his gestures a bit slower than usual as he got used to the thick gloves. _"_ _I'_ _m supposed to have my Mark visible all the time."_

“Which is the point of wearing them now,” says Zelda as she redoes the buttons on the back of his not-really-a-coat. (She’d gotten them crooked the first time. _Embarrassing_.) “And- this probably goes without saying, but- stick with me while we’re out there, okay?” 

_"Fair enough."_

She lets him figure out the gloves and hat on his own, going back to her own pile of stuff. There’s a rusted old mirror in front of her, giving her a perfect view of Link- and a perfect view of his expression as she tucks her hair into a long, green cap. 

A very _familiar_ long, green cap.

_"Have you been walking around like-"_ Link’s hands fumble with his disbelief- _"_ _l_ _ike_ _**that** _ _this entire time?"_

Zelda shrugs casually. “When you first arrived, people started spreading rumors. Do you really think I’d be willing to share the spotlight?” _Do you really think I’d let them just talk about you like that?_

Link stares at her for a silent moment, and just _laughs,_ just barely loud enough for her to hear, but expressed in the grin on his face and the shaking of his shoulders. Zelda mirrors his grin, pulling on the rest of her outfit- gloves, boots, and a small dagger, _just in case._

_"You’re still wearing your earrings,"_ Link notes with curiosity. _"_ _I thought you were trying_ _not_ _to look like royalty."_

“I look like someone who’s got money to lose,” Zelda replies. “After all, why gamble when there’s no chance of winning anything?” 

Link hums in agreement, a smug smile growing on his face- they both know that no-one has a chance of winning against her _anyways,_ not if she’s not willing to lose. _"_ _I guess I can’t call you ‘Zelda’," then,_ he signs. 

Zelda grimaces awkwardly. “Well… pretty much everyone just calls me ‘Link’.”

_"We can’t_ _both_ _be ‘Link’. That would just be confusing."_

Zelda pauses, folding her hands in front of her- an odd sort of nervous habit she’s developed over the years. “I suppose… I should just call you by your name, then. We’re already breaking the rules, after all.”

_"Are you sure?"_

‘Link’ just laughs. “Of course I am, Zarron. When have I ever led you astray?”

Zarron hums thoughtfully, hands poised to respond.

“...don’t answer that.”

* * *


	3. Name Lost To Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night out on the town.

* * *

Castle Town is, in a word, _loud._

It’s busy with people from every corner of the Skylands, each unique face blurring together until all you can see is the sea of the crowd. Everyone has somewhere they want to be, something they want to do. The worn-down cobble streets are constantly trampled by horses and carriages and people, lit by the soft glow of storm lamps on the street. Even now, each one holds a glowing orb of storm magic, despite the cracks and grime that creep at the edges of their containers. 

The sun has long since set, now, yet the city is as lively as ever. In the central plaza, a statue stands guard. It’s shining marble and impossibly clean compared to its surroundings, depicting a young man in a Champion’s tunic, his long hair flowing with his cloak, and a sword with a winged hilt held aloft.

_The Champion of Hyrule,_ the plaque below reads. The individual’s name, though, is left blank- lost to time. 

Link pulls his gaze away from the statue of his predecessor, and tries to instead focus on what Zelda’s trying to explain to him- he thinks it’s something about a card game. He’d zoned out halfway through and is starting to wonder if she noticed or not.

He taps on her shoulder. _"_ _Where are we going again?"_

Zelda pauses, then grimaces slightly. “You got distracted by something.” Link nods bluntly, and she shrugs. “Eh, well, that’s fair. How about this- first round, you just watch me, yeah? Rather than have me try and dump all this on you at once.” Her eyes sparkle with a malicious sort of joy. “You’ll get to watch me rob some assholes blind, get front row seats to it all.”

_"I don’t really know if I want to do this…"_

“Aww, c’mon, where’s your sense of adventure?”

Link pauses. He points back at the statue of the Champion. _"_ _With him, probably,"_ he then signs.

“Nonsense. I’ll make it easy for you the first go, I won’t even cheat that much-”

“HEY! HEY, LINK!”

Link and Zelda both instantly turn their heads to see who’s calling, before Link realizes he isn’t ‘Link’ right now, and feels his face warm as a (relatively) small Goron stomps his way over. Zelda grins, her eyes crinkling over the pale green of her scarf. “Tonos! How lovely to see you again,” she greets, putting on her ‘princess voice’. “I’d thought you’d headed east again.”

The Goron- Tonos- chuckles awkwardly. “Yeah, well, transportation's been a pain in the ass lately. Speaking of- you hear those rumors about, uh, _someone in particular_ being back again, goro?”

Zelda stiffens ever so slightly. “I’ve heard them. I’ll believe them when I have something more substantial than _rumors,_ I think.”

“Yeah, well… if it’s true, guess you’ll be leaving for a while then, huh?” says Toron, gesturing vaguely at Zelda’s getup. 

She just shrugs. “My business is my business, Tonos, you know that as well as I do.”

“Yeah, yeah, well…” He huffs, looking ready to change the subject. His wandering eyes inevitably fall on Link. “Who’s your pal in the fancy dress here, goro?”

“Zarron,” Zelda says. “A good friend of mine from a bit further south, he asked for a guide to the area.” Tonos nods.

“Neat, neat. You like the new gig up at the castle, then, goro?” 

There’s an awkward moment of silence- at least, silence between the three of them, as the city continues on without notice- before Zelda awkwardly clears her throat.

“He took a vow of silence as a child,” she explains in an almost reverent tone, one that makes her words all too believable- _almost_. “Part of some Sheikah thing.” Even now, there was very little known about the Sheikah, so just about anything odd about Link could very probably be written off as ‘some Sheikah thing’.

(He was considered an outsider, of course, born outside of Kakariko, and to a Gerudo mother no less. Even Link himself knew next to nothing of the Sheikah.)

Tonos nods, his eyes wide. “Woah. That’s hardcore, Brother.” Link smiles slightly, appreciating the praise, even if it wasn’t deserved. He’d take what he could get. “Well, you two stay safe. Even if the rumors _are_ wrong, I wouldn’t wanna push my luck.” He moves to return to the crowd, waving them goodbye. “See you round, goro!”

“You as well, Tonos!” says Zelda amicably. As soon as the Goron is out of earshot, though, she grumbles, “Bastard still owes me sixty rupees, y’know.”

Link just laughs.

* * *

Link had known for a while now that Zelda was an absolute shark at a card table, but seeing her in action? Now that had been something to behold.

Even though he didn’t know the rules, just seeing the growing frustration on the faces of her fellow card players / victims was incredibly satisfying. Almost all of them insisted she was cheating- which she was- and yet not a single one could prove it in any way. One even tried to get the barkeep involved, but it seemed she already knew not to bother when it came to Zelda. 

Most of her winnings went towards food for the two of them- she hadn’t played for too long, spending time in between rounds trying to explain bits and pieces of the game to Link. He’d actually managed to pay attention to most of it, letting himself fiddle with a small pile of green rupees. 

It was strange, going from his usual meals- hand-picked for him, to help him properly grow and develop as well as prepare him for life on the road- to, well, actual food. It was hardly the first time Link’d had such an opportunity, but he was hardly going to let it go to waste. Besides, he’d learned enough from the royal chefs to make sure that even life on the road wouldn’t stop him from having a decent meal.

(Who knew there were so many different ways to cook _apples?_ )

“I’ll start packing up the rest of my winnings,” Zelda notes as she finishes licking the grease and salt off her fingers. She’d had the right idea with the fingerless gloves. “You okay waiting for me outside the door?” Link nods, and Zelda hums thoughtfully. “Don’t wander off, okay? Or… try not to?”

Link looks off to the side, blushing. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d wandered off without realizing it, not by a long shot. _I’ll try._

And he does manage to succeed.

For a while.

He doesn’t even really process it- his mind wanders, and his feet follow. There’s a fancy vendor off to the side selling ornamental pots. _I should get one of those as a joke,_ he thinks, _since Zelda’s expecting me to buy one and break it._

[ **you should break it!** ]

Link scowls. He’d thought the sound of the city would be enough to drown **them** out. _"_ _I’d have to pay for it and Zelda might get mad,"_ he signs discreetly. It’s the easiest way to talk to **them,** he’s learned.

[ **there’s arrows over there, we need more arrows** ], another voice chimes in.

_"We don’t n-_ **_I_ ** _don’t need arrows, I don’t even have a bow."_

[ **we should climb the statue I bet there’s something on top of the statue** ], adds the most distinct- and chaotic- of the voices.

There’s about a dozen of **them** that he’s counted. Zelda’s the only one that knows about **them-** anyone else would think him mad, though, he probably _is_ mad, in all honesty. Link wonders sometimes if **they** are his other lives, but… **they** don’t sound like Heroes. **They** sound like children. 

[ **where’s Zelda is Zelda okay we have to make sure she’s safe** ]

Link huffs. _"_ _Zelda’s fine, she’s…"_

Oh.

Oh no.

He spins on his heels, eyes wide as he scans the crowd. He’d _tried_ to stay still, he really had! He didn’t mean to wander!

**They** get louder as his heart pounds against his chest. [ **NOT SAFE!** ], one yells as Link staggers backwards. [ **so many people why are there so many people?** ] asks the chaotic voice, almost a whisper against the growing din. 

[ **find somewhere safe. hide. don’t let them see your face.** ]

He doesn’t have names for **them,** if only out of denial. But there’s a few he can identify. One that echoes like it has too many voices, one that’s louder than the rest, one that’s younger and more excitable than the others. And one whose voice is young, and yet… there’s something _old_ about that one. Like a weathered soldier with the face of a child.

If there’s any of **them** that Link trusts, it’s that one.

So he runs.

He pushes past the crowd, ignoring the glares and confused glances he gets in return. He doesn’t know this place but he knows there _must_ be somewhere to hide, somewhere _safe-_

[ **climb the walls!** ]

[ **there’s a door there!** ]

[ **no, no, go the other way!** ]

Each and every voice chimes in until he can’t even distinguish them from each other. Clutching his head, he finally finds an alleyway- [ **safe. defensible. stay alert. don’t forget to look above you** ]- and practically flings himself into a corner.

He is- he is- he is _Link,_ he is-

He’s in Castle Town- (no, there is no Castle Town-) (no, it was destroyed years ago-) (no, it’s filled with monsters now-)

He’s with Zelda- (but she’s been kidnapped-) (but she’s been turned to stone-) (but she’s _dead-)_

He was- he, he was-

His name is Link, he is- (he is a Hero, he is a king, a Champion, a traveler, a soldier, a-)

He is a child. He is afraid.

Someone steps into the alleyway.

Link lurches back, his heart in his throat, grasping for his sword but finding it missing. Where’s his bow? His shield? ~~His Slate? His masks?~~

Nothing. He’s unarmed, but he’s not defenseless, ~~he won’t let himself be killed aga-~~

“Link?”

He pauses. The silhouetted figure puts their hands up in surrender, stepping forwards slowly. He backs himself up against the wall, but doesn’t move against them.

“Link? You’re safe now, Link.” The figure lights a lantern, and-

He can feel his heart skip a beat. “ **Why are you** **_me?_ ** _”_ he whispers, and every voice he speaks with is his own. The figure grimaces.

“Shit, I didn’t even…” Link can’t help but think of every shadow, every echo of himself he’s had to fight, but, this one doesn’t look like the others. “It’s- it’s just a costume. I’m-” She glances back behind her a moment. “I’m in disguise, remember? It’s me, it’s Zelda.”

“ **...like with Sheik,** ” he supplies, and Zelda nods.

“Can you tell me where you are?” she asks him. Everything about her is calm, and Link can’t help but feel calm as well.

“ **We’re in… in… a town,** ” he replies, feeling embarrassed by the fact that he can’t even remember that. But Zelda doesn’t seem put off by that.

“In Castle Town, in Hyrule, in the Skylands,” she elaborates. “Do you remember why we came out here?”

“ **Because… we were… you- you wanted to… teach me something,** ” he says, stumbling his way through his words. Link looks down at his hands, frowning. “ **Why am… where… where’s Fi?** ”

“We came out here because I wanted to teach you how to play cards,” Zelda tells him patiently. “Try and remember that.”

“ **You were… you cheated,** ” he says, giggling. “ **And you bought food.** ”

“Mhm, that’s right. I need you to tell me one other thing, okay?”

“ **Of course.** ”

“What’s your actual name?”

“ **It’s-** ” Each of his voices responds at once, overlapping into an impossible sound, and- and he can’t even tell what he’s saying. _What_ **_is_ ** _my name?_ he wonders. _I- isn’t it…?_

“ **_Zarron,_ ** ” he whispers, before switching again to sign. _"_ _My name is Zarron."_

Zelda sighs with relief. “You’re back. You’re okay.” Zarron nods. “I’m so sorry!”

He blinks at her. " _W_ _hy are_ **_you_ ** _sorry? I’m the one who wandered off again."_

“Yeah, and I _knew_ you couldn’t help it, and I _knew_ I should’ve stayed with you, but I didn’t,” she insists, finally allowing her tears to fall- they both know **they** would have panicked if **they** had seen her crying.

_"...I’m okay now,_ he tells her. _I’m here."_

“...they’re getting louder, aren’t they?”

Zarron hesitates, then nods. _"_ _I think so, yeah."_

“...we should go back to the castle now,” says Zelda. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -drawn by Jay


	4. Your Name Is Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've finally run out of time. (Time, time, always out of time.)

* * *

They both know the story. 

There is a Hero, who must kill the Beast. 

There is a Beast, which must endanger the Princess. 

There is a Princess, who must help the Hero. 

Again, and again, and again.

It doesn’t matter what their names are, of course, not when they’ll just be lost to time in the end. Perhaps that’s why they’ve all become the same story. Maybe, once, things went differently. (But the stories will never tell.)

They say there will be a Princess by the name of Zelda, and she will be wise and she will be beautiful and she will be  _ helpless _ . 

They say there will be a Hero, and they will call him ‘Link’, as a Hero should need no other name, and he will wear green, like the spirits of the forest.

They say there will be a Beast. 

A monster, perhaps, or just a man. Or is there no difference? Sometimes he is little more than a demon, but most often, he is a Gerudo.

(There are some stories that say he was the one who cursed his own people, so that he would be the only voe among them.)

Whenever there is a Beast, there will be a Hero to fight him. And so, if there is a Hero, there will be a Beast.

Zarron had been nine years old when someone had recognized the mark on his hand, and he was dragged to the castle to be trained. To be taught how to kill the man he must inevitably fight. Just as there will always be a full moon, there will always be a Beast.

It’s only a matter of time.

And time is running out.

“It’s still just rumors,” Zelda insists, though Zarron isn’t sure if she’s trying to convince him or herself. “But… the tower’s been cleared out. And Impa’s been on edge.” 

The two of them sit in Zelda’s quarters, knowing that they’ll not be disturbed. Impa, her Sheikah guard and caretaker, was well aware of Zelda’s rulebreaking. Far from approving, but far past trying to stop her young charge, she had opted to make sure Zelda knew how to avoid getting in trouble.

Impa was old, even by Sheikah standards, but she had a keen ear for danger. If she was nervous, then… it was likely the rumors were more than just that.

_ “...I’m not ready,” _ is all Zarron can reply with. 

“Neither of us are,” Zelda says quietly. “But what choice do we have? The goddesses chose us for a reason. We can’t just sit around and do nothing.”

_“I know. But… Zelda, I’m scared. I’m_ ** _terrified,_** _”_ Zarron signs. _“I’m supposed to be a bearer of Courage. I’m just a coward.”_

“So what? Cowards are the ones who live to tell their stories, Zarron. Would you rather live on as a legend, or actually  _ live? _ ”

Zarron puts his hands down. Zelda already knows his answer. 

“All we can do right now is wait and prepare. We both have our parts to play. Let’s just make sure we survive the first act.”

* * *

The following days are a paradoxical haze- agonizingly slow, uncountably quick. Minutes feel like hours, and hours feel like years. And yet there is never enough time in the day to do what needs to be done. (There is never enough time.)

In the tradition of Heroes before, Zarron was to be sent out with only the simplest weapons, with the expectation that he would prove himself over time. Thankfully, he and Zelda weren’t the only ones to balk at tradition, and some of the servants and one of the knights had prepared a smuggled bundle of supplies for him.

For a soldier it would have been nothing much. Some light armor, a sturdy sword, a bow and quiver, food rations, extra clothing. He could waste tradition proving himself after he  _ survived _ .

He spends what time he has left training, both in swordplay and survival. 

He prays to the goddesses, asking them to guide his path. He prays his cowardice will not be paid in someone’s life.

He talks with the few scribes and historians about previous Heroes. (He can’t leave the castle grounds again, not with how jumpy all the guards are, but he can stop and chat with any travelers he might come across, learning what he can about what to expect outside the walls.)

Zelda plays her part as well, but she will not simply sit around and wait. She learns everything she can about the coming threat, talking to everyone from diplomats to messengers- the latter being one of her best sources of information. She takes on the role of ‘Link’ once again and talks with anyone who’s encountered the encroaching force- learning their strengths and weaknesses, their tactics, anything she can use. 

The clocks tick. The bells toll. Time passes. A full moon rises and falls.

The cycle must continue anew.

* * *

“Link?”

Zarron pauses only briefly to take note of the messenger, but his sparring partner still tries to take advantage of it. Not wanting to keep the messenger waiting, Zarron finishes the fight quickly, and turns his full attention to the newcomer.

“The king has formally requested your presence in the throne room,” she tells him solemnly. 

They both know what it means. He’s finally run out of time. (He thought he’d have more time.)

Zarron nods tersely, removing his sparring gear.  _ “Do I have time to get changed into something proper?” _

“He said it was urgent, but… I would suggest it,” the messenger tells him. 

Zarron simply nods, and the messenger accepts his understanding for what it is. They are beyond expecting words from him.

Zelda meets him outside the door to his quarters, wearing a formal dress and a look of panic. “This is it, isn’t it?”

_ “...I’ll still have a bit of extra time.” _

“But not much. He’s not going to wait, Za-” Something in her face falls, her composure creeping over like a mask. “...Link,” she corrects herself. “You’ll have a few days at most.”

_ “So I’ll just have to make the best of them,” _ he tells her.  _ “Go. I’ll meet you outside the throne room.” _ She sighs, but nods, bunching her skirts up in her fists as she traipses down the stairs.

By the time Zarron meets up with her, she looks calm and collected, as any princess should, with no hint of the apprehension that had been there before. She’s wearing her royal gown, the blue sleeves matching Zarron’s tunic. She breathes deeply, and opens the tall, wooden doors.

The throne room is the grandest part of the castle, designed to make it seem that the rest of it must be equally grand. Large stone columns hold up gilded beams in the shape of the Triforce, sparkling in the light of a stained-glass window depicting the Hero of Time. The floor is a mosaic that makes up the shape of the Hylian crest, with the crimson bird’s beak pointed towards the main throne, which is itself made of intricately carved stone, draped with a soft red velvet.

“Champion. Princess. Please, come here.” The king’s voice is not unkind, but it is final. Link and Zelda walk across the ancient floor, before kneeling at the throne. “Do you know why I have called you here?”

“I do not, father,” Zelda replies calmly, still kneeling.

“Champion?”

Link shakes his head.

“Hmm. You may both rise.” The king’s gaze holds both of them fast, and Link has to force himself not to turn away. “Speak to me, Champion, of your purpose.”

Link’s hands move to rise.  _ “I am-” _

“I said  _ speak _ to me, not  _ sign _ to me,” the king says sharply. 

“ **...I am the Hero.** ” 

His words echo with a dozen voices. 

He is a traveler, he is a soldier, he is a sailor, a smithy, an explorer; he is young and old and mortal and  _ not _ . He is all of these things and yet nothing, with no way to tell which- if any- is truly his. “ **Where there is evil, a Hero arises to save Hyrule.** ”

The king nods. “And as such, if there is a Hero, one must always keep watch for evil.” 

He stands, the stained-glass ideal of a Hero casting light at his back. 

“There are three Golden Goddesses, and as such, three chosen. All marked with the Triforce. When Zelda was born with it, we began searching for you- and, of course, awaiting whatever evil you were meant to annihilate.” 

None of this is news to any of them. But Link can tell that the king has been dreading this day as well. (Maybe Link imagines it, but that dread could have almost been sadness.)

“...Champion,” the king utters gravely. “… The Beast has been found.”

It is the finality of a sword through the heart, of a prison cell locking, of a coffin nailed shut. Beside him, Link can feel Zelda trembling.

“...you’re certain?” the princess asks hesitantly.

“A dark mage has been making grand appearances all over Hyrule,” the king sighs. “He has the Mark on his hand, and commands an army of monsters. Can this ‘Ganon’ be anything  _ but _ the Beast?”

“No… I suppose not.”

The king sits down on his throne once again, holding himself with a regal air. “Zelda Ahemara Hyrule. I, King Korenin Farsara Hyrule, order you to, before nightfall, take up residence in the easternmost tower of this castle. There you shall stay, until the Beast finds you. Do you understand?”

“...Yes, father,” Zelda finally answers. “I understand.”

“Zelda?”

“Yes, father?”

The king’s voice is a pleading whisper. “Please… be safe.”

“...I will, father. I will.”

* * *

Let it not be said that the kingdom has learned nothing from their past, from their stories. 

They have learned to find the Hero before he is forced into his task, to train him and give him time to prepare. 

They have learned to teach the Princess how to wield her goddess-given gifts, rather than hoping they simply appear. 

And they have learned of the Beast’s ways.

He is never quite the same person, never has quite the same motivations. But for whatever reason, be it fate or the will of the goddesses, the stories tell them that the Princess will always be in danger from him.

If she is lucky, she will be kidnapped. This is the best outcome. She cannot be killed without the Beast losing whatever advantage he seeks. 

But if the Beast cannot kidnap her- if she is too well-guarded, too clever, too secretive- he will not be so kind. The stories do not shy away from this. They tell of kingdoms falling to ruin as their princess is locked in a century-long slumber, of children being locked in stone, saved only seconds before they are locked away forever, of a forgotten queen battling the Beast herself deep in the belly of the castle.

They will not risk it. 

What if the Hero cannot wake her? 

What if the Hero is too late? 

What if the Hero isn’t strong enough? 

~~_ What if she dies, and it is their fault? _ ~~

Let it not be said that the kingdom has learned nothing from their stories. Those stories are warnings, and they know it. 

Some say that the first queen of Hyrule was Hylia herself in mortal form. Zelda doesn’t believe that, though. After all, it’s so terribly easy to see a hero and think her a goddess. 

Zelda isn’t a goddess.

But as she walks the stairs to her tower, as the door is locked behind her, as she sits at her desk and writes… she wonders if history will remember her as one.

She isn’t a goddess. But she’ll be damned before she lets that stop her.

* * *

_ Zarron, _

_ I didn’t get the chance to tell you this in person, mostly because I only just decided on it. Yes, that’s probably pretty stupid, but I’m angry and bored and this tower is tiny. _

_ I don’t fucking care what they try to do to me- you know that there’s no lock that can stop me. I’ll let them kidnap me, sure, but that doesn’t mean I’m staying put. Especially if the cell I end up in is anything like this tower. (Seriously, I cannot emphasize how boring it is in here.) _

_ Unless my sources are completely wrong- which they’re not- I’m probably going to get taken somewhere south of the Dueling Peaks. Once I get out- which I will- I’ll try and make my way to Hickaly Village. There’s a railway stop just north at Ash Memorial.  _

_ Don’t keep me waiting. _

_ Ahe _

* * *


	5. The Same, The Same, The Same,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (But different.)

* * *

The Yiga appears in her room at midnight.

Zelda doesn’t let the flash of smoke startle her, instead composing herself as a princess should. (She’s had enough practice by now, after all.)

“You’re here to kidnap me, I presume?” 

The Yiga is silent for a moment. Zelda doesn’t turn around, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of seeing her fear. 

“...yes?” they finally reply, sounding rather uncertain.

“Are you asking _me?_ ”

“I-” The Yiga pauses. “-you’re very calm about this,” they comment. Zelda just shrugs. “You’re not going to fight me?”

“I wouldn’t stand a chance, most likely,” she confesses. “Besides… my predecessors survived through their patience, not their strength.” 

She stands to her full height, letting the gold of her crown glimmer in the moonlight, and spreads her arms in show of surrender. 

“I have no weapons on me. No tools. Only the knowledge that you were sent here to _take_ me, not to _kill_ me.”

The Yiga doesn’t quite look how she’d expected- they don’t stand eight feet tall, or carry bloodied sickles. They’re not much taller than she is, really, and their only weapon seems to be a simple sword. The white mask is the same, though, with its single blood-red eye staring back at her. 

“...are, um… are you ready to go, then?” Zelda nods. “You, uh,” the Yiga reaches hesitantly towards her, “I have to be holding onto you for this to work right.” 

She holds out her hand, and the Yiga takes it, and-

oh

where is-

why isn’t she-

_where am I?_

_I can’t feel anything-_

_help me-_

-and she falls to her knees as the world forms around her, smothering her senses in a cloud of reality as her brain remembers it exists. She can hear the Yiga inhale sharply in sympathy as they help her to her feet.

“Shit, I- I didn’t mean- I mean, that was supposed to happen but we were told you wouldn’t cooperate-!”

Zelda groans as the world keeps spinning around her. “Why’s your magic smell like bananas?”

“...I’m going to take you to your cell now.”

“That’s fair.”

* * *

_Link?_

_Wake up, Link._

“...please, Zarron, wake up.”

Zarron frowns at the vague figure standing over him. “ **Wssat?** ”

He blinks, and the figure comes into focus to reveal his manservant, Kassa (who is neither a Man nor a ‘servant’, at least in the sense of him not being paid). The blue Rito looks uncharacteristically nervous, trying very hard not to start picking at his feathers.

“The king has called for you,” Kassa whispers plainly. “The ceremony’s being prepared. You’ll be needed by noon.”

Zarron sighs as he sits up, running a hand through his hair. _“Thanks for the early warning,”_ he eventually signs. 

Kassa nods, glancing around anxiously. “Switch trains once you get to Proxim Town,” he mutters discreetly. “The supplies are in the rear wagon, under one of the seats. We all pitched in to buy tickets, so there won’t be anyone else there with you.”

_“...I don’t know what I’d do without you,”_ Zarron tells him, his hands stumbling over his words. _“All of you.”_

Kassa just smiles softly at him. “Come back safely, Hero. You and the Princess. That’s all we ask for in return.”

* * *

Zelda has been told many times that her hubris would be her downfall. 

Each time, she told them the same thing:

_It’s only hubris if you’re wrong._

“Why are you doing this, anyways?” she asks her jailer casually. Zelda’s not expecting a response, but then again, it’s a bit hard to tell with those masks.

It’s not the same person that brought her here, that’s for sure, but she can’t figure out anything else about them.

“Good pay.” The Yiga simply shrugs. “Not all of us are royalty, you know.”

“I didn’t have any choice in being the princess,” she replies, more bitterly than she’d intended. “I _certainly_ didn’t have any choice in carrying this thing,” she adds, gesturing with her left hand. 

The Yiga huffs in amusement. “Sure. Isn’t that thing supposed to give you the power of the goddesses or something?”

“In theory. In practice it just paints a target on your back.”

The Yiga stills, then looks away. “...Yeah. I get that.”

Zelda frowns. “I apologize if I said something wrong.”

“Nah, just…” The Yiga rubs at the back of their neck. “I know what that’s like.”

“I’m sorry. I know that probably means very little coming from someone like me, but… the sentiment is still there.”

“Yeah.”

“Is there- do you have a nickname, or something? I’ve just been calling you ‘the Yiga’ in my head and it feels a bit rude.”

“No can do, sorry. Rules and all that.”

“Ah. That’s understandable.”

_This is going better than I expected. If I can garner some sympathy, that will make things easier._

_And if they’re doing this for pay, I can bribe them._

“It’s the same with the Hero, you know,” she meaningfully lets slip. “He’s not allowed to have a name either. Just ‘Link’.”

“You’re still waiting for him to rescue you, aren’t you?” the Yiga asks her quietly.

Zelda doesn’t reply.

“We have some food, if you’re hungry,” the Yiga offers. “Just bread and cheeses, but-”

“I’ll be fine for the moment.”

She can almost hear the Yiga frowning behind their mask, shuffling awkwardly in place. “Yeah, well, uh… yeah. That’s good.”

Zelda smiles to herself, continuing to look as if she’s staring morosely out her cell’s tiny window. 

_Just you wait._

* * *

The king’s orders to Zarron are brief, succinct. _Rescue my daughter._

The ceremony afterwards is just for show. All of Castle Town already knows the news, and it won’t take long for it to spread. 

The Beast has been found. 

The Princess has been taken. 

Only the Hero remains.

(They don’t have to know how he broke down in Impa’s arms when she handed him Zelda’s dagger.)

(They don’t have to know that he stopped in the kitchens to say goodbye to everyone there.)

(They don’t have to know that Kassa helped him through a panic attack only a few minutes before the ceremony began. He’s gotten far too good at hiding it.)

~~They don’t have to know their Hero is just a person.~~

Zarron is led through the castle grounds by an entourage of guards, all of whom he knows by name. The crowd is deafening, and Zarron feels…

...he feels _fake_. 

He feels like a dead tree that’s been hollowed out. Almost alive, if one decided not to look- and in reality, one stiff breeze away from collapsing.

The Hero marches on.

The king stands in front of the statue, a simple traveler’s sword laying in his outstretched hands. Zarron is led in front of him and kneels. He knows this song and dance all too well already. He’s practiced it since he was nine years old.

“Champion of Hyrule,” the king begins, his voice silencing the crowd. “Hero of the Skylands.” He pauses. “ _Link._ An apt name, for one who is but the most recent in a chain of Heroes, spanning reality itself. The Chosen Hero. The Hero of Light. The Hero of Time. The Hero of Legends. The Warrior Hero. And…” The king turns to look at the statue behind him. “The Hero of the Wilds. Whatever face you may wear, whatever title you may take, your soul is the same as it always has been. Through history, you have been little more than a silent stranger, to be seen, and forgotten. But today, Hero, know that you will be _remembered._ ”

Zarron had heard this speech before, knew it by heart. He knows every action he has to take, every action he has to respond to. And yet, this time…

This time, **they** hear him. **They** listen. 

The king places the sword into trembling hands. “Just because something is lost,” he says, only loud enough for the two of them to hear, “does not mean it is gone forever. Simply… misplaced. Waiting to be found again.”

Zarron feels his hands still, as if someone else holds them for him. He knows the motions, knows what he has to do, but as he feels the hilt in his hands, he knows that this ceremony is not for his sake.

Link turns to look at the crowd, and raises his weapon skyward, just as the Hero’s statue does, and a voice he doesn't recognize surfaces amongst memories not his own.

_Courage need not be remembered… for it is never forgotten._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
>  _Age of Rust_ will not update as often as some of our other works. While the others have more dedicated schedules, this one is still new, and currently secondary to our larger scale projects. If you found this fic first, feel free to read our other stuff while waiting for the next update!  
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